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Like Zen Like Zen
by Michael Lee Johnson
2014-02-06 11:51:30
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You are morning
when the artist comes
young oriental with your
zen01_400poems like Zen.
All words and all
sounds are trapped
inside the parrots cage.
You have your own form of babble-
you talk in your pajama sleep.
You mimic your scripts
of love and fairly dust
stretching from now, to the past
too many years gone by.
You dust off the scent of bluebells
a faint fragrant,
to every male footstep
new to your door.
You’re in love with love,
and every man is a statue, a raw image.
Romance is scratched, etched, inside
your Frank Sinatra, Johnny Mathis
78 rpm records.

All words, romance, are
captive there.
You wrote poems from inside
this space, then ran away.
But you’re older now,
therapy session begin, loneliness
grabs your jugular vein,
wrinkles have replaced the smiles.
The singles dances you used to go to ended.
But you are evening
now when the artist
comes oriental
with your poems
like Zen.


   
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